A few weeks ago, I wore sexy undies on laundry day. It was a rookie mistake, because after all these years I should know better. Wearing sexy undies on laundry day, solidified the fact that I would have to have sex with my husband and fold laundry on the same day. How could I let this happen?
I'm sure I'm not alone in this. I'm sure this has happened to you? Or maybe you are the kind of gal who never gave up her sexy undies when she got older or became a mom. Maybe you still enjoy the look and feel of sexy undies. Me? Not so much. Somewhere around the second trimester when I was pregnant with Caitlin, I had to put all those thongs in the back of the drawer. I didn't even want to wear pants, let alone have a piece of string going up my butt. At the time I was pretty sure that one day, I'd find them in the back of the drawer and think I'd want to wear them again. That I would one day be in a position where I would worry about panty lines and maybe even begin feeling sexy again. Then the baby came and I had to wear pads bigger than my newborn. All sense of modesty was lost. It was going to be granny-full-coverage undies from here on out. Plus, I couldn't even fit in those old thongs if I wanted to. It seemed as if they were part of some freaky doll clothes lingerie collection. Was I ever that small?
Since becoming a mom, I've taken the easy road, paved with full coverage cotton panties. They are from Victoria's Secret, but they are basically granny panties. Funny thing is that I really don't give a single fuck. The Hubbs whines about how boring they are, where is the lace, where is the satin? I'm forced to point out the neon color which is a whole hell of a lot better than basic white, but he just rolls his eyes. He gives me that look that roughly translates to, "This is my life now". I didn't mean to become a boring panty person, it just happened.
Over the years I've gotten smart. I've built a substantial stock pile of undies. Because laundry is always the last priority in this house. That's why my kid has two spirit day shirts. That's why both kids have enough clothes and undies themselves to last two weeks. Do my bath towels look old, it's because they are, and I have enough to last a lifetime as well. Because, laundry. Because for whatever reason, it just won't do itself.
It's been awhile since I've had to worry about running out of undies, but then I started working again and that has meant that laundry really hasn't been getting done. Then you factor in the fact that I only buy panties once a year, on my birthday. Usually because I get a bra coupon to use at Victoria's Secret, and since I'm there, I add on the five for whatever cotton undies. Women's lingerie is expensive, and when you go from buying the best to having to buy diapers, then pull-ups then a four pack of undies tattooed with Elsa from Frozen, your "needs" get put on the back burner. Cute undies for me hasn't been a necessity in years, but clean ones? That is mandatory.
Imagine my surprise when I found myself a few weeks ago faced with zero clean ones. I looked everywhere. I even brought out the ones that don't really fit, but I have them anyway for emergencies. Now I was way past emergency and on the cusp of wearing the sexy ones. The ones that are reserved for never. The ones that never see the light of day, because let's be honest, who has the time. And personally, I want to meet the person who invented something called a "cheekster". Because who's the lady that was all, "Fabric up my ass for eight hours? Yes, please". Does she even exist?
I spent an entire day wiggling around trying to think about anything else but the extra fabric in my undercarriage. Then it hit me, not only would I have to do laundry when I got home, but I'd also have to have sex with my husband if he had any idea that I was wearing underwear that never sees the light of day.
Look, it's not that I don't like to have sex with my husband, I do I swear. I'm sure if he were here, he would tell you that I roll my eyes when ever he brings up the subject. I like sex. I like my husband. I like orgasms. But some days, I like sleep more. Some days all I have is enough to get the kids out of bed and to school. To get dinner ready, and to read books with the girls before bed. Some days the best I can do is putting seventeen pairs of my undies in the washing machine, then moving them to the dryer and then leaving them their until the next person does laundry. Orgasms are great. My husband is great. And if that is all that I had to do, we'd be one amazingly happy couple. But that's not the way life goes. I'm not a frigid bitch, but I had to really think about which activity I'd like to do more that day. Laundry or sex. Because I'm sorry but there was no way I was going to have sex and fold laundry. I told the husband not to make me choose, because I'm pretty sure he wasn't going to like the answer. Some days, I think I'd rather fold laundry then have to show off my sexy drawers.
Don't feel sorry for me. I didn't have to fold or have sex that day. And guess what? Everyone lived happily ever after. For the moment.